


Challenge Two: Fantasy

by Pornalot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Pornalot, Pornalot 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 16:19:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16370957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pornalot/pseuds/Pornalot
Summary: Entries for the second Pornalot 2018 weekly challenge: Fantasy





	Challenge Two: Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> Behold the porny entries for week two of the 2018 Pornalot fest!
> 
> Each entry has individual warnings but they have not been mod-checked so proceed at your own risk.
> 
> Please vote for your favourite entries! All you need is an LJ account :D You can vote [HERE](https://pornalot.livejournal.com/17267.html)

1

 **Warnings:** Dark Fantasy  
**Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/FakeMerlin  
**Title:** The Final Trial

 

It was only yesterday that Arthur had sat in the throne room alone, emptying his mind in order to see which challenge he would face and complete in order to be worthy King of Camelot.

He had a vision, in which a Faun came to him, and told him of three trials he must complete in order to prove himself.

The first was a battle of strength, a Melee which Arthur had no problem winning. The second was a battle of courage, in which Arthur had to sacrifice himself for the benefit of his Kingdom. Of course, he did so without hesitation- and woke from the task to find the Faun at the end of his bed.

“Your final trial is one of magic. Tonight, when the sky is at it’s darkest you must go to the woods and carve a door facing North on the trunk of the largest Willow tree. When you enter, your greatest temptation will lay before you. You must not succumb to your temptation, Prince Arthur. Place this key in the lock, and then leave, no matter what you see. The faeries will guide you.”

**

When the full moon shone on the outline of the door that Arthur had carved into the tree, Arthur had pushed it open and stepped inside to see a long corridor. Along with his three faeries, he pushed forwards, his hand toying with the key in his pocket. One he entered the room, the first thing that caught his attention was the table, ladened with fruits and meats galore. The second thing was a… a creature. It’s naked, pale body sat at the head of the table, and it’s face was nothing but translucent skin and a thin mouth. From what Arthur could tell, it was dead, or dormant at best. He saw the lock behind the creature, and hastily made his way- fitting in the key and retrieving his prize- a crystal- in return.

He and the faeries were about to leave when he heard him.

“Arthur, don’t leave me, please...” There was no mistaking his manservant’s brittle, broken voice. The faeries immediately began to buzz around his face and urged him to carry on walking, but he was curious. Of course, Merlin was back at the Castle, so this would be a trick. Arthur wasn’t an idiot.

He swatted at the faeries and the sight he almost choked at the sight before him. Instead of the food that had been there before, Merlin lay naked on his back on the wooden table, his arms and legs outstretched, shackled to each corner. “Please, Arthur. He will have his way with me if you leave me here- you must free me.” he whimpered, never opening his eyes.

Arthur was between a rock and a hard place. Was he to leave his manservant behind? Or was he to rescue him? This mightn’t be a trick after all…

As the faeries began to pull at his armour, Arthur clambered onto the table between Merlin’s legs and placed a hand either side of his manservants head. “I will get you out” he whispered into Merlin’s ear, before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Then everything happened quickly. There was a sound of clanking metal and Merlin’s arms were around his back, pulling him in for more. Arthur couldn’t help himself, in his life he would never have this opportunity, he’d never be able to give in to his feelings for the man he loved.

His tongue made its way into Merlin’s mouth as his hands slid all over the lean, warm body beneath him. He caressed his servant’s skin, nipping and grabbing, leaving bruises in his wake- and he ground his clothed groin against Merlin’s naked, hard cock. When he bit into Merlin’s neck- a loud moan sliced through the air.

But it wasn’t Merlin.

He lifted his head to see to see the creature before him, standing in his chair- eyes in the palms of his hands which he held out in front of him- and when he looked back down at Merlin, he was grinning- and his eyes were open.

And they were yellow.

Arthur ran, aware that he had sacrificed his helpful faerie friends- and when he fell through the door he had come through, he was in his chambers. Merlin sat wide-eyed at his desk. “What are you doing here?” gasped Arthur, torn between being completely horrified and slightly turned-on.

“Well, you see” began Merlin, but Arthur didn’t care. Merlin was alive, and he was here… and he was real. He leapt over the desk, straddling Merlin’s hips and kissed his servant, deep and languid- and to hell with the trials.

Between kisses and bites, Merlin revealed that he had been watching Arthur, and that their minds had been connected during the trial. While the fake Merlin had his eyes shut, the real Merlin could see- but Arthur didn’t care.

At some point the desk was knocked on its side, and they were somehow on the floor - but this was just how Arthur wanted it. “You seemed to like those shackles” smirked Merlin whilst Arthur circled his tongue over his left nipple, biting it softly to elicit a moan from his servant. He felt the colour rising in his cheeks and then laughed to himself.

“Be quiet, Merlin. Or I’ll be having my way with you while you’re in the stocks” and before he could take things any further, his servant replied.  
“No need for that” and there was a flash of yellow in Merlin’s eyes before he was shackled under Arthur’s body.

“You’ve kept this from me the whole time? You idiot, Merlin!” Arthur half-shouted, half-laughed.

Arthur took his manservant for the first time that night, and he made sure the entire castle heard- and that there was no unmarked skin left on Merlin’s beautiful behind.

 

2

 

 **Warnings:** Tentacle sex, restraints  
**Pairings:** Freya/Merlin, Freya/Others  
**Title:** A Deeper Dive  
**A/N:** Fic title and quoted lyrics from Alan Walker's 'Faded'

 

 _Where are you now_  
_Was it all in my fantasy_  
_Where are you now_  
_Were you only imaginary_  
_Where are you now?_

 

* * *

The long years stretched ahead of them, and increasily also behind them.

Merlin would go visit Freya from time to time. She'd always greet him with a smile, but sadness lingered all around when she rose from the lake to come sit with him on a rock by the shore, her feet never leaving the icy water.

She'd look at him with her dark, dark eyes, her skin and hair dripping wet, her drenched raiment unable to conceal any part of her still-human body. Merlin would avert his gaze to leave her some modesty.

He'd hold her hand, though. Closing his eyes before briefly kissing her cold lips, he'd whisper "I hold you incredibly dear," into the perfect conch of her pale-pink ear.

When waterlilies were in season, he'd pick the most beautiful ones to bind her a flowery crown.

"My pretty princess of the lake," he'd murmur tenderly, and she'd blush and lower her eyes.

Freya seemed so modest, so kind, so chaste, so lovely. Despite the mystical powers she had been granted, despite her eternal life and the otherworldliness of her existence, to Merlin she remained the frightened, young girl that he couldn't save, but always cared for, the one who inhabited his purest pastoral fantasies. In his dreams they'd run across green meadows, laughing and carefree and hand in hand, stealing shy kisses behind the barn, staying up to watch the stars.

He'd squeeze her fingers and leave kisses in the palms of her empty hands every time he left. "You're still my lady, the one and only," he'd tell her in good-bye.

Then, one day, after many years of travelling far lands while waiting for Arthur, Merlin returned to the lake, and found it empty. He couldn't sense Freya's presence. The shimmer of her protective powers had faded. The heavy mists lingering on the lake had lost their enchantment.

He could hardly believe it, but eventually had to accept it.

Freya was gone, and he never discovered what had happened to her.

 

* * *

The long years stretched ahead of them, and increasily also behind them.

It was a long time now since she'd received the magnificent Excalibur for safekeeping. It was not up to her to determine when King Arthur would return to his world and require his enchanted weapon, but she wished he would hurry up.

Increasingly, Freya chafed at the constraints of her strange and lonely aquatic life, magically transformed though she was.

There was a chill that she couldn't chase. The lake waters parted around her with cold indifference.

Freya longed for warmth instead, for pressure and friction and fever-heat.

She imagined an immense Kraken, rising from the depths to bind her arms and legs with tentacles twisting around her limbs like iron bands, turning her squirming, helpless body this way and that in the fractured sunlight just below the surface. She thought of suction cups leaving marks across her most sensitive skin, and the hard, knobbly end of one exploring tentacle entering her, filling her completely and moving rhythmically like a living thing inside of her. The fantasy shocked her, but would not leave her. It set her on fire.

She longed to encounter one of the notoriously dashing mermen, whose urges were said to be insatiable. Laughing with glee, he'd embrace her with strong arms and pull her downwards in a spiral of pleasure and heated kisses, his long, tactile tongue exploring her mouth, his undulating tail rubbing between her legs as she rode it all the way down into warm, welcoming darkness.

Yes, she dreamed of discovering whole communities of passionate merfolk in the uncharted depths. Oh, she wanted to see and be seen, to touch and be touched, to learn all the secrets of desire, to be made flesh and lust and hot, hot blood. She would revel in the sensations such a life would bring her, with so much heat coursing through her that it'd burst outwards and make the very lake-waters boil.

There were beckoning seas, wider oceans, undiscovered realms in the deep. The creatures and spirits living there might be alien, demanding, or even cruel— Freya did not know, but she wanted to find out. At least they'd surely not place her on a pedestal as a revered image of beautiful purity. The denizens of the deep would not be as blind as Merlin, pretending to himself that he cared for her, while in reality waiting for his only true love, his king and future lover, to return at last.

Freya longed to make her fantasies real.

She knew what she wanted, and she'd never find it in Lake Avalon.

She left.

 

* * *

_These shallow waters never met_  
_What I needed_  
_I'm letting go_  
_A deeper dive_  
_Eternal silence of the sea_  
_I'm breathing_  
_Alive_

 

 

3

 

 **Warnings:** None  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur

**_I wanna lick you from your head to yo’ toes  
And I wanna, move from the bed, down to the down to the to the flo’_ **

Merlin let the lyrics of the song wash through him as he swayed to the pulsing rhythm of the beat. Trying desperately to ignore the way his body was reacting to the man pressed up behind him—and failing miserably. He never should have agreed to dance with Arthur, his best friend and _secret crush_ , when he was this drunk. He’d known it was a bad idea… but this was Arthur, and he always had a really hard time saying “No” to Arthur.

His breath hitched, and his heart rate sped up as Arthur’s hand dropped from Merlin’s hip to snake lower around his waist, pulling Merlin back to fit more snugly against him.

**_Then I wanna, you make it so good I don’t wanna leave  
But I gotta, know, whats your fant-ta-ta sy—_ **

“So, what is it?” Arthur’s breath tickled against Merlin’s ear as he leaned forward to shout over the loud music in the club.

“What?” Merlin yelled back, before he was suddenly manhandled towards the edge of the dance floor and pressed up against a wall where it was a little quieter.

“I _said_ ,” Arthur’s voice purred as he stepped closer. “What’s your fantasy Merlin?”

 _Oh, fuck!_ Merlin felt lightheaded as all the blood in his body rushed south.

“Why would you assume I only have one?” Merlin joked trying to deflect Arthur from this train of thought before the alcohol and his cock took over and he said something really stupid.

“Mmmm, kinky. I like that,” Arthur told him, shifting against him slightly so that his thigh brushed against the growing bulge in Merlin’s pants. “Why don’t you just tell me the first thing that comes to mind then.”

Arthur looked at him expectantly. He was so close that Merlin could tilt forward and kiss him if he wanted to. Hell, of course he wanted to. It was fighting the temptation to do so that was slowly killing him. Arthur’s lips slowly turned up in a shit-eating grin.

_Fuck, I’ve been staring at his lips too long._

“Maybe I should tell you one of mine first,” Arthur suggested, his voice coming across low and husky.

Merlin gave a silent nod, willing his brain to catch up and be of some use to him in the near future. Then Arthur started talking and he lost all hope.

“This mouth for one,” Arthur told him, reaching up to lightly trace Merlin’s lower lip with his finger. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fantasized about what it would taste like… Pictured what it would look like wrapped around my cock—”

“Fuck, Arthur,” Merlin moaned, leaning forward.

“I’ve fantasized about that too,” Arthur murmured, leaning forward to nip at his ear. “God, every time you wear those tight black pants of yours, I picture myself ripping them off of you. Bending you over and burying myself deep inside that tight little ass of yours—”

Merlin lunged up and pressed his lips to Arthur’s. Pouring everything he couldn’t put into words in to a soul searing kiss that left them both breathless.

“So, I’m guessing you don’t mind being my fantasy then?” Arthur asked with a hesitant smile when they finally came up for air.

“What do you think?” Merlin panted before pulling Arthur in for another desperate kiss. “You’re my fantasy too, you prat! God, I can’t even tell you how long I’ve wanted you.”

“How about we get out of here then and you can show me instead?” Arthur suggested with a smirk.

“Fuck yes!” Merlin took Arthur’s hand and dragged him through the club quickly, eager to get home and explore each and every one of their fantasies together.

 ****_Then I wanna, you make it so good I don’t wanna leave_  
But I gotta, know, whats your fant-ta-ta sy—  


*Lyrics are the chorus of the song “What’s Your Fantasy” by Ludacris

 

4

 **Warnings:** Semi-Public sex, Exhibitionism  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur

  
It had all started with the last convention Merlin had gone to. Arthur had been sitting in the audience giving him knowing looks, undressing him with his eyes. Driving him mad. He’d meant it as a joke. He hadn’t been serious. But Arthur had. And yes, Merlin had had fantasies like this. But he’d never thought that it would actually happen. Fantasies weren’t _meant_ to happen. That’s what made them fantasies. So how he had ended up like this?

Fortunately the lights were low and he was pulled up to the table as closely as he possibly could so that no one would be able to get a glimpse of what would be going on between his knees. His heart thundered in his chest and it took all the acting skills he had to still his face and look calm and neutral when he could feel his cock getting hard, twitching already in anticipation as a bead of sweat rolled down his spine.

The babble in the convention room went quiet as the lights were turned out and the tape started to roll with the opening credits of the first episode of Merlin’s new show beside him. His heart gave a lurch as hands ran up his legs slowly, seductively and then there was a wet heat mouthing at his cock through his jeans. _Fuck_... It was all Merlin could do to stop from voicing his pleasure out loud and they weren’t even skin-to-skin yet.

The errant hands crept up the insides of his thighs and he shuddered. Careful fingers inched down his zip and crept inside the waistband of his boxer-shorts, pulling them down. His cock sprang free and slapped against the side of Arthur’s face. _Shit._ How was this even real? Then just as his character appeared on screen and said his first words, a few of the audience clapped and turned to him to see his reaction. Arthur licked along the length of his cock. Using all his acting chops, Merlin smiled faintly. He slid his hand under the table into Arthur’s soft, golden locks as Arthur took the head into his mouth and sucked firmly and Merlin bit his lip and tightened the hand in Arthur’s hair. Unable to stop his eyes from closing and giving a faint moan under his breath. This was madness. Complete and utter madness.

His ears registered the sounds of himself speaking the lines he had learned so long ago now, but his eyes just couldn’t seem to focus as he stared blankly at the screen, all thoughts occupied by the fact that Arthur was now bobbing his head up and down his cock. His stomach churned from nerves. What if someone found out? What if they all knew what was happening? The though was terrifying, but somehow immensely thrilling. Relax. Relax. Unless you show them no one will know. Merlin forced his eyes open, though he could not focus them. Lust was pooling, molten in his groin. If Arthur wasn’t careful he was going to come already. He stroked his hand against Arthur’s cheek, feeling the shape of his length through the skin of Arthur’s cheek. His cock gave a throb. Arthur gave the base a quick warning squeeze. _Don’t come._ Merlin took a deep shuddering breath and did his best to obey. He knew what happened when he disobeyed. There would be no reward later in their room for indulging Arthur in this.

He steadied himself and let his hand drop from Arthur’s face to dig his fingers into his leg, to distract himself from the pleasure.

He could do this. He could last. He could.

And then Arthur hummed. The bastard.

Merlin felt the familiar way his muscles were starting to tense, his orgasm imminent. And then Arthur stopped. Merlin wanted to hiss at him and ask him what the hell he was doing. Instead, he put his hand on the back of Arthur’s head. Gently pushing it down onto his cock. Arthur wanted to do this? Then they would do it and do it properly. Arthur started to move again, a hand wrapped firmly around Merlin’s shaft. Merlin fisted Arthur’s hair and used it as leverage as he worked his cock so far down Arthur’s throat that he was sure Arthur would start choking. But Arthur just took it in his stride, the muscles in his throat at first relaxing, then working madly as Merlin fucked his pretty face. Merlin managed a smile as his eyes scanned the crowd. They were all so focused on the show, none of them had a clue how exquisitely Merlin was using Arthur’s mouth.

He shifted in his seat and thrust his hips a couple of times—Arthur actually choked then and pulled off of him. Merlin wanted to whine, but bit down hard on his lip to stiffle it. But then Arthur set about doing his worst. Or best, really, and Merlin couldn’t help but let out a whimper. Arthur sucked hard, and worked his lips speedily around him. Merlin groaned out loud, closing his eyes and tilting back his head. Fuck, he was so close. Arthur slid his hand inside his boxers to cup his balls and that was it. Merlin was gone. His thighs and stomach tensed and he came with a loud yell, shooting his release down Arthur’s throat.

As he came down from his high he suddenly noticed the silence.

Every single pair of eyes in the room were on him.

“Oh, fuck.”

—

The next week there was a headline emblazoning all the tabloids: ‘Pendragon Playboy dating BAFTA winning actor Merlin Emrys’.

 

5

 **Warnings** : None  
**Pairings** : Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Knights

Merlin’s cock starts filling before he closes the door to his room, the anticipation more than enough to get his blood flowing, pooling where his body knows it will be needed soon.

Four days ago, Arthur went on a hunt with a few knights and for once left Merlin rather than dragging him through the muddy forest only to complain about his every action; he isn’t due back for two more nights. Gaius is now on his way to help an old friend with a difficult birth a day’s ride away and they had readily agreed that no one involved would benefit from Merlin’s presence. It’s rare for Merlin to have even a few hours to himself, but he’s been gifted with at least a day where nobody will come looking for him.

He plans to use it.

He starts to strip off his shirt, eager to get going, but then imagines a sigh from behind him, a cuff to the back of his head. That’s even better.

“Can’t you do anything right?” Arthur would ask, exasperated and mocking. “Put on a good show of it, at least. Or do you not know how? We could always go to the girls in the lower town if you’re going to be completely useless. Maybe you could learn something, watching them work.”

Merlin’s face gets hot with embarrassment and something more. His chest, his back — the latter still partly exposed, his shirt left half-removed after Arthur’s fantasy interruption. It gives him away, as does the growing swell in his pants; stops him from pretending offense at the insult. Much as he loves rebuffing Arthur’s bullying, he would love even more to indulge it. To let Arthur see how the hot burn of mortification excites him and the shame of it builds even still atop that.

He won’t call Arthur’s bluff because Arthur wouldn’t be bluffing. So he bites his lip, says, “I’m sorry, Sire. Please, let me try again?”

“Very well,” Arthur allows with an exaggerated benevolence, “but don’t disappoint me again.”

Merlin tries to slow it down, make a tease of it, but he knows he’s awkward. He nearly strangles himself in an effort to pull off his neckerchief without untying it; he really tangles himself in his trousers when he attempts to be coy in their removal. Falling, he barely manages to angle himself to land on the bed instead of the stone floor, face-down.

“Oh, just stop,” laments Arthur. “You’re useless, as expected. I’ll just have to do it myself.”

A flash of magic tugs Merlin’s pants down and off on Arthur’s behalf, so quickly and easily that Merlin can almost believe he didn’t do it himself at all. When he starts to push himself up, Arthur sighs again.

“No, Merlin. I told you: you can’t be trusted to do anything on your own, so you’ve lost that privilege. Tie his hands.”

The last isn’t said to Merlin; it’s an order to the others. To the king’s closest friends, the knights who’ve earned his trust and favor and earned their reward in the services of the king’s lover. Or, as it’s shaping up instead, in the use of the king’s lover—he won’t be able to offer anything on his own once Arthur has been obeyed. As the knights secure his arms, as Merlin directs his quilt to wrap under the bed and knot around his wrists, Arthur hums.

“On second thought, get his legs, too.”

Cloth snakes around his ankles, spreads his legs apart, pulls just enough against the restraints around his wrists to draw him tight and helpless on the mattress. He moans into it and Arthur laughs, a cruel edge that only makes Merlin’s cock throb where it’s pressed down to his bedding.

“Well, that at least you’ve got down. It sounds like a brothel in here already and we haven’t even done anything yet. Take him at your pleasure, men; he’ll try not to be a further disappointment.”

That order is for Merlin, who swears, “Yes, Sire,” in the moment before Gwaine clambers in front of him to occupy his mouth.

One day, almost a year ago now, Merlin had broken one of Gaius’s pestles in a rather spectacular display of carelessness and was sent to buy the replacement. It took most of the afternoon to find the market stall, because Gaius had been stingy with directions in his ire, but once there he quickly located the wooden instruments Gaius favored. He also found two made from stone that he was instantly smitten with, that he saved his meager wages for months to go back and purchase.

The smaller of them pushes its way between his lips now, slow but not gentle, just like Gwaine wouldn’t be—not anymore. The first time they did this, Merlin thinks, he would’ve been tentative, concerned for his friend and hiding it behind friendly barbs at Arthur. But he’d come to see how Merlin was and turn his sharp tongue to Merlin whilst Merlin turned his own tongue to wrapping Gwaine’s cock in pleasure. He’ll stay at the head of the bed even when he’s spent himself down Merlin’s throat just to argue with Arthur about what’s best, to shut Merlin up with a cock in his mouth or to leave it empty so they can wring wanton moans from him instead.

Contrary and lustful, Merlin moans around the phallus as the other presses to his hole, cold and slick but easy—Lancelot, always chivalrous. He takes his pleasure of Merlin, then Elyan or Percival after him, and all the while Arthur watches from the doorway. He’s giving them all he can, but for himself all he gets is what pressure he can find rubbing off on the sheets, and it’s not enough.

He whines and begs and ruts harder, but he needs more. “Arthur, Sire, please!”

“Well, this is a pretty sight,” Arthur says from the doorway.

Merlin didn’t imagine that.

 

6

 **Warnings:** none  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

Everyone steals paperclips from work. Maybe even a little pad of sticky notes.

 _Fantasy_ , the potion bottle read.

He didn’t know specifics. He knew it was expensive—he’d sold enough to ritzy establishments. He knew his plonker of a boss had tried it—he’d lorded it over Merlin so many fucking times Merlin had swiped one himself and was sitting on a toilet at work about to suck it dry.

His phone vibrated.

_Anymore apple pie?_

Ever since Merlin had been baking biscuits and pies on a whim, his boss wanted to sample anything Merlin had brought to work.

Merlin had started to bring extra slices for fuck’s sake. For his boss who made him redo all the sales reports at least three times and rewrite contracts he’d approved the week before. It was wonderful, of course, someone appreciating his baking.

Today he could piss off.

_I’m a free man on break. Eat a carrot._

Merlin punched out the reply, uncorked the bottle, and downed the liquid.

Strange. It tasted like apples.

Merlin blinked.

He was no longer sitting on a toilet, but on the edge of a plush bed with red, velvety blankets. He’d been here before—it was one of the rooms he’d toured inside a castle in Wales. Except now it looked fully furnished and lived in.

Not bad so far.

“Merlin, come here,” a voice purred behind him. “You wanted to see my leather belt?”

He recognised that voice.

Merlin rested his elbow on the bed and leaned back, finding his uptight boss in all his naked glory.

Which was fine, Merlin supposed. But of all of the sodding fantasies in his mind, his _boss_? _Really_? This was the same arse who insisted Merlin organise highlighters by rainbow colour order in his desk drawer or face extreme disciplinary measures.

Merlin had never wanked to his boss before. Except those days when Arthur would come in with those black leather pants. That was completely out of his hands.

Fantasy-Arthur locked eyes with him and Merlin’s thoughts hit a metaphoric concrete wall and bits of brain went flying.

Arthur had smiled. Was still smiling. Not a barely restrained smile of pain or of poorly concealed impatience at his idiocy that he was well accustomed to.

A genuine smile—a lover’s smile. Like they’d fucked a thousand times and Arthur was ready for more.

_What the hell._

*

A minute later Merlin found his hands tied up above him by that damn leather belt. Arthur was between his legs, leaning down.

Okay. He was starting to get this Arthur fantasy now. Because he was rock hard and when Arthur wrapped his lips around Merlin, his fingers teasing Merlin’s arse, he cried out.

“ _Fuck!_ ” He looked down his stomach and watched in amazement as Arthur took the whole length of him.

Merlin took a shuddering breath and grasped the leather tighter.

“Arthur,” Merlin whispered, his vision going blurry. “I can’t—I’m not going to last—”

Arthur stopped. Merlin felt a thrill of anticipation as their eyes met. He crawled up to Merlin’s side, his lips hovered over Merlin’s, his fringe brushing Merlin’s forehead.

This couldn’t be a fantasy—not if Merlin’s heart was cracking like thin ice under an elephant as he realised he was pretty fucked when it came to the real Arthur.

Arthur whispered in his ear, “Do you want to last?”

Merlin laughed. “In truth,” he said, looking down pointedly, “I want to be thoroughly fucked.”

Arthur slid back down. He raised both eyebrows. “We both know what your fantasy is, Merlin.”

“What—”

Arthur gripped Merlin’s shoulder with one hand, the other closing around Merlin’s pulsing cock firmly, guiding it into his hole, wet and wanting.

Merlin’s heart started pounding like a war drum and he gasped the moment the tip of him went inside Arthur.

“Merlin!” He heard a voice. “I see your bloody Barker shoes under there!”

Merlin woke with a start. He was still in the loo, on the toilet seat. Arthur—the real one—was on his hands and knees outside the door and Merlin was ready to hang stockings on his cock it was so hard.

Before Merlin could say anything, Arthur slammed into the door and it burst open. Arthur was breathing heavily and his eyes zeroed in on Merlin’s cock straining beneath his trousers. “What are you doing? Break’s over.”

Merlin shot up. His face must have been purple. “Are you out of your fucking mind? Why would you break open the door like a deranged bull?”

“You didn’t answer,” Arthur shouted back. “I needed to know if you were okay.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. _Now_ Arthur showed concern. Brilliant. “I’m not dying on the toilet.” He sat back down and tried to tug his jumper down over the bulge.

Arthur crossed his arms and stuck up his chin, like his voice hadn’t just been cracking in concern over Merlin and his hard cock. “Fantastic.”

Merlin studied his shoes. “Fantastic would not be the word I’d use to describe this situation.”

“Terrible, then,” Arthur offered.

“Better.”

“I’d ask, but I don’t want to know.”

“Two slices of my best peach pie tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Two slices, and you’ll never speak of this. Or text it to your friends or post it on the most narcissistic Twitter feed in existence.” Which Merlin had the great dignity of following. With notifications.

Silence. Merlin cleared his throat and looked up at Arthur. “Please?”

Arthur’s gaze slid down Merlin’s body and Merlin vividly remembered that same intensity burning in Fantasy-Arthur’s eyes as he'd let Merlin fuck him. Or had been _about_ to.

Arthur bent down and picked up the bottle Merlin thought had vanished—a drip of green liquid still clung to the rim. He cocked his head. Then, the heat flickered away and he smiled—only a trace of what Merlin had seen in his fantasy—but it melted Merlin’s insides nonetheless.

“Merlin, I think this warrants a whole fucking pie.”

 

7

 **Warnings:** None  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

“Sorry to have been a disappointment, Merlin,” Arthur says. “I’ll try harder in future.”

He means it. Merlin says his is a thankless job, and Arthur isn’t a very good king if he doesn’t treat his servants well. Not that Merlin is just another servant — he is so much more. Arthur’s always wanted to see Merlin happy. His own elation at having his favourite person in all Albion all to himself has dissipated to vapours; the fact that Merlin doesn’t know how much Arthur loves him is gutting.

Merlin _should_ know.

“I adore you quite a lot, Merlin,” he says. “I love you.”

It hurts that Merlin is so surprised at that. “All right, Arthur,” he answers. “You’re not too unlikeable yourself.”

That makes Arthur smile, wide and bright. “Even though I’m a disappointment?”

Merlin looks shamefaced.“I — I didn’t really mean that, Arthur. You’re brilliant, you know.”

“You are, too. More than I am. You’re so lovely, Merlin. You’re my heart’s desire.” Arthur moves over to Merlin’s log. The fire spits and crackles, flames licking higher for just the briefest moment. Merlin turns towards him, bewildered. Arthur fits his hand round the side of Merlin’s neck. He’s always wanted to do that. Merlin’s neck is long, smooth, and Arthur’s always hated the neckerchief that covers it up. Merlin took it off for the night; mumbling something about the fire making him too sweaty.

“Arthur?” Merlin’s voice is uncertain.

“You’re beautiful,” Arthur whispers, earnest and intense. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Merlin answers. Arthur doesn’t think he’s imagining the guilt with which Merlin’s slowly pushing Arthur’s hand off his neck. He shuffles closer. He’s a disappointment disappointment _disappointment_ — and the least he could do is try and be less of one by making his favourite person happy.

So he asserts, “I do,” because he does. “I’ve never taken my eyes off you since you came to Camelot. I could never forget the way you called me a friend and an ass. I liked you instantly, and I loved the way you looked, too; disrespectful and defiant, and the way you bowed to me like it was an insult. I was so pleased that my father bound us together, because it meant I’d have an excuse to see you every day.”

Merlin inhales. “Well, you certainly didn’t show it,” he says, laughing softly in a way that makes Arthur believe he isn’t really laughing at all. He continues to watch Merlin, steady and sharp. Merlin swallows and faces away from Arthur.

Arthur watches his neck and his sublime ear nearly _gleam_ in the firelight. “I couldn’t,” he explains. Why doesn’t Merlin understand? “I couldn’t show you how much I was in love with you, Merlin, what would you have done had you known? I thought you hated me, thought I was the bane of your life — oh, Merlin, why do you look like that? Do you hurt, Merlin? Where?” He examines Merlin’s hands, his knees and calves.

“Nowhere you can touch, my simpleton,” Merlin sighs. He doesn’t meet Arthur’s eyes even when Arthur curls a finger over his jaw and tilts his head back. Arthur swallows. He hadn’t wanted _this_. He hadn’t desired to make Merlin’s misery worse. He leans closer, wondering if he’s allowed, and places a soft kiss on Merlin’s cheekbone, right beneath his eye.

When Merlin melts just the slightest towards him, shoulders hunching on the way, Arthur pulls him into his side. Merlin seems like he’d wanted it, like he was cold, even though there’s a roaring fire going and he took his neckerchief off. “I love you, Merlin. All the years that I’ve known you, I’ve wanted to be someone of whom you could be proud. I love you so much. You’re my best friend, you’re my only friend, you’re my heart and soul.”

“Really?” Merlin asks, quiet and small. He looks up tentatively at Arthur, at his mouth.

Arthur waits.

“Did you ever want to kiss me?” Merlin asks hoarsely. Arthur rushes to answer.

“All the time. I’ve wanted to kiss you everywhere, not just when you’re in my chambers or with me on the battlements; I’ve wanted my father to see, my knights and Guinevere and Gaius and everyone to see us kissing so they’d know you were mine and that you had my heart. I’ve wanted — I _want_ to hold you close, to breathe in your air and your singular scent.”

“More,” Merlin begs. “Tell me more.”

“I want to push you down on my bed. You’d look so good on my bed covers. I’d take your clothes off piece by piece, the opposite of the way you dress me, and I’d spread your legs and sit between them. You would look stunning under me, Merlin.”

Arthur stares straight into Merlin’s wide eyes, silver green in the light, hoping Merlin believes every word of this. Arthur will never get the chance to say any of it again. “I need to suck your cock. I’ve seen you naked on patrols, when you’re washing yourself in the river. I would gladly get on my knees before you and be _your_ servant. When you’re in my bed, Merlin, in my arms, I’m going to lick your hole open for me and fuck you till you can only say my name. And then I’ll do it slow and gentle, the way you deserve; I’ll make love to you. Because I love you, Merlin. And I don’t know any other way to show you how much I do.”

Merlin says nothing for a long while. And then — “Thank you, Arthur.”

“I would be lucky to have your love.”

“You _do_ ,” Merlin says, suddenly wild and desperate, and before Arthur can even smile, Merlin places a hand on his forehead and whispers something that aches terribly to hear and —

— and then everything is night.

 

8

 

 **Warnings** None  
**Pairing** Percival/Merlin

Percival had always been fascinated by the women’s dresses. He remembered how, as a child, he had spent hours looking at his mother and the other women weaving, sewing and mending clothes. Back then, they were simple ones but colorful nonetheless. He also remembered the May Day embroidered scarves they prepared months in advance.

But he was a boy and soon, his father took him away from the women to bring him outside and teach him archery, riding and fighting with a sword.

He was good at it and became the most skilled fighter of his village.

Then, his village was attacked and, if he survived, he didn’t manage to save his family. He had felt so useless then.

***

In Camelot, his love for women’s items of clothing was soon awoken when he saw nobles in the castle halls and corridors, wearing dresses as he had never seen before. They were made of silk, finely woven cotton, velvet, lace, and furs.

He tried not to look at the ladies too insistently, not wanting them to believe he was trying to get their attention with something else in mind. After a few months in Camelot, though, he was often spending time around the laundry. He had started a friendship with one of the older woman working there and this allowed him to look at the dresses being washed and dried.

It was is secret… and it remained like that for a long time.

***  
Percival looked at the dress on his bed. It was beautiful. Made of dark blue silk with embroidered trims.

He had managed to get it from the laundry after the noble lady it belonged to didn’t want it back for an obscure reason.

So every night, Percival took it from his closet and just watched him. He let his fingers trace the detail of the rims, feeling the fabric.

He would have wanted nothing more than to feel the silk on his skin but the dress was obviously too small for him to wear.

So, often, he lay on the bed naked, the dress next to him and imagined he was wearing him. It always made him feel hot and the only way to relieve the pressure was to touch himself until he finally could fell asleep.

He was stroking himself the day Merlin entered his room without knocking - or Percival didn’t hear him.

“Percy… Do you know what Gwaine…”

And then, Merlin saw him. His hand around his shaft, the silk dress.

“Oh… I… Sorry.”

Percival wanted to disappear. He closed his eyes, hoping to hear Merlin leaving.

But nothing happened and when he opened his eyes, Merlin was still there just closer to his bed.

“I… I…” Merlin stuttered as he kept coming closer to Percival.

“Merlin… Don’t…”

Merlin was just beside the bed and he gently touched the skirt of the dress.

“It’s a beautiful dress.”

From all the things he could have said, Percival had never imagined he would choose that.

“It is.”

“You… You’d look wonderful wearing it.”

If Percival’s dick had softened after Merlin’s entry, hearing this made it hard in just a few seconds.

“It’s too small,” Percival said, not knowing what else he could say. The whole situation was feeling so unreal.

“I… I could… If I had one made for you...Would you let me see you?”

Percival just nodded. The idea of wearing a dress was so exciting but imagining Merlin watching him made it even more arousing.

“Yes… Yes…”

Merlin nodded and without any warning, he came even closer and was soon lying next to Percy and they kissed.

It was such a flurry of movements, kisses, touches. Percival divested Merlin and their bodies aligned, their dicks touching.

“Merlin…” Percival moaned.

It was the first time he lay with a man but it felt so right. It had nothing to do with a feminine body. Merlin was lithe but strong and the way his hand gripped Percival biceps had nothing to do with the gentle touches of women.

Their movement was already getting faster and messy. Too soon, they reached their climax together..

And then they lied there, breathless and dazed, the dress next to them, the silk shining with the candlelight.

 

9

 **Warnings:** bondage, light bdsm  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

In hindsight, telling the AI “surprise me” when it asked him what scenario he’d like to play out might not have been the brightest idea he’s ever had. He blames the stress and fatigue brought on by the long, frustrating diplomatic talks with the ambassadors of the five planets of the Avalon system.

He finds himself strapped to a medical chair, unable to move, a strip of cloth in his mouth preventing him from speaking. He did put bondage and submission on the list of kinks when setting up his holodeck preferences, so he isn’t completely against the idea, but none of his previous sessions started this abruptly. Still, he can always safeword out, or in this case think-word out of the simulation as he can’t actually speak.

“Well, well, well… If it isn’t the mighty Captain Pendragon of HMS Albion,” a voice comes from behind him and while he tenses, he can also feel anticipation building in his belly. “Not so mighty now, are you?”

Hands caress his hair, sliding down his neck, tracing the line of his jaw. Arthur’s eyes flutter shut.

“What would your crew think if they saw you like this? Bound, helpless, enjoying every second of it.”

The hands slide lower, teasing his nipples through the thin material of the uniform. Arthur arches into the touch, restraints digging into his skin.

“What should I do with you? Should I give you what you want or should I make you beg? Should I give you pleasure or should I give you pain?”

Arthur moans into the gag, his cock rapidly swelling in reaction to the man’s words.

“Both it is,” the man says and pulls away, finally circling the chair and entering Arthur’s field of vision, forcing Arthur out of his stubborn denial.

Of course he knew the man was Merlin. It’s right there in the session’s settings. But it never stops the guilt from pooling in his stomach. Merlin is his first officer, his friend, and here he is dragging him into his sexual fantasies. But no matter how often he tells himself that it’s the last time he’s doing this, he can’t stop himself from coming back for more.

“Open your eyes,” Merlin says, pulling Arthur from his guilt-filled musings. “You’re not allowed to take your eyes off me. Is that understood?”

A thrill runs through Arthur’s body at the authority in Merlin’s voice, and he nods quickly, eager to see and feel whatever comes next.

Merlin’s eyes glow gold and Arthur’s clothes disappear. He gasps at the feel of the ropes pressing into his bare skin. This is new. The computer is outdoing itself today.

Merlin remains clothed, his eyes roaming over Arthur’s body, making him squirm with building arousal. More gold swirling in Merlin’s eyes, and Arthur cries out as something invisible coils itself around his cock and balls, squeezing and not letting go.

“What did I just say?” Merlin asks.

Arthur’s eyes jump from trying to spot the invisible ties at his groin back to Merlin’s face.

“You really do want to be punished,” Merlin says, calm and collected, only the blush of his cheeks and obvious bulge in his trousers betraying his enjoyment of the situation.

The pressure on Arthur’s genitals increases, and he pants into the gag, struggles against the bindings, all the while trying to keep his gaze fixed on Merlin.

“Better,” Merlin says, releasing the pressure, disappearing the bindings and the gag.

Arthur slumps into the chair, his mind cloudy with sudden freedom, but he doesn’t get much time to rest as the chair moves under him, the back of it lowering itself slightly and leg rests forming under his legs, spreading him open. Ropes wind around his body once more, looser than before but still keeping hm in place.

Merlin steps between his thighs, presses his finger against Arthur’s opening while his fly opens itself just enough for Merlin to pull his cock out and give it a few lazy strokes. A foreign feeling of warm fullness spreads from the point of contact past Arthur’s sphincter and further inside his channel.

“What..?” he starts to ask, but the next second Merlin’s freshly freed erection pushes inside him, stealing his breath away.

“So tight,” Merlin gasps, buried inside Arthur’s heat, unmoving.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I need… Touch me.”

“That’s new,” Merlin says, his eyes wide with surprise, but Arthur is too far gone to find it strange.

“Please,” he begs, straining against the bindings and the next second his limbs are free and he reaches for Merlin, pulls him closer, pressing their lips together, gasping as Merlin’s cock moves in him. “Fuck me.”

Merlin doesn’t need to be told twice, setting up a slow rhythm that lasts only a few minutes before he picks up speed as he seeks pleasure in Arthur’s body.

The pleasure is becoming too much, the need to come nearly overwhelming. Arthur forces his hand in between their bodies, tugging at his own cock in time with Merlin’s thrusts, the fingers of his other hand digging into Merlin’s side.

Few moments of blind weightlessness as the pleasure mounts and then he’s coming messily in between their bodies.

Merlin’s swearing washes over him, his erratic thrusts only heightening Arthur’s pleasure. And then Merlin stills, presses himself to Arthur as close as their current position allows, gasping and trembling, filling Arthur with his seed.

Arthur cards his fingers through Merlin’s hair until their breathing settles, until Merlin’s spent cock slips out of him. Merlin pulls him up from the chair and smiles at him as if he’s the most precious thing in the universe.

“End the simulation, Kil,” Merlin says then.

“What?” Arthur ask, confused.

Their surroundings melt away but Merlin stays, staring at Arthur, wide-eyed.

“Fuck,” they say in unison.

 

***

 

Kilgharrah, the HMS Albion’s AI, cackles to himself, booking the holodeck 5 for the rest of the night, nothing more than generating a simple double bed needed this time.

 

10

 **Warnings:** Space AU, time travel, space travel, dirty talk, D/s undertones, fantasy.  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur.

“You a stowaway?”

Merlin looks around the strange room and honestly doesn’t know how he got there.

“I--” he starts.

The man shoots a quick glance over his shoulder as he’s manning the helm. Merlin knows something had gone horribly wrong with his magic, because this is not the forest where he’d been a couple of minutes ago. He wonders what happened with his mother.

“Either way, hold on. We’ll deal with you later.”

“W-what?”

“Hold on!”

Merlin almost falls over when the ship makes a sharp left turn and then immediately goes into a drop. His magic saves him from crashing headfirst into a wall and he feels immensely grateful he’s still got that, regardless of where he is.

“Gwen!” shouts the man, and Merlin looks around expecting to see a third person somewhere. There’s no one.

_“Yep?”_

A disembodied voice seems to come from everywhere and it makes Merlin’s skin crawl. Are these people also magic?

“Push the engine as far as you can without breaking it. We’ve run into a few dragons and I can’t shake them. We’ll need to jump.”

There’s a short intake of breath. _“But the engine’s--”_

“I know, but do your best. Everyone hold on!”

The ship tilts again, leaving Merlin’s stomach behind for a moment. He shuts his eyes. This just can’t be real.

***

It takes the man and the woman several hours to realise the engine is irreparably fried. When Merlin tries to leave the engine room, the man, Arthur, orders him to stay put. For some unfathomable reason, Merlin does.

Later, Gwen angrily wipes away a tear and pushes Arthur’s hand away when he reaches out for her.

“What are we supposed to do now, eh?”

“Gwen…”

“They’re waiting for us to rescue them!”

Clearly frustrated, Arthur drags his fingers through his blonde hair.

“I know, we’ll find--”

“We don’t have any power, we’re drifting aimlessly.”

Arthur looks pained, but doesn’t answer.

“I need them back, Arthur. I can’t live without--”

And then she chokes down a sob and rushes off. Arthur follows. Suddenly, Merlin is all alone. The room’s big enough to house the ship’s massive engine, but there isn’t much more in it. Not thinking about anything in particular, he puts his right hand on the broken engine, closes his eyes and exhales slowly.

His fingers prickle with magic, and suddenly, the big machine makes a loud, clanking noise and then slowly starts back up.

“Shit,” Merlin whispers. “Shit.”

***

“So… Merlin?”

Arthur’s standing in the doorway to Merlin’s bunk. A week has gone by, and Merlin still isn’t sure what happened to him. He wishes his mother won’t be too distressed at his disappearance, but he realises she’ll probably turn the world upside down to try and find him.

It’s strange to think it won’t help since they’re not on Earth, nor on any other planet.

“Yeah?”

He doesn’t look up from the book Gwen’s let him borrow. Arthur’s a bit of a prat who expects people to do whatever he says all the time, so Merlin obviously does the exact opposite as often as he’s able.

“We want you to stay.”

“Last week you told me you’ll throw me off at the first possible planet and that it’d hopefully be a garbage plant planet.”

“You called me a ‘blithering imbecile’, Merlin.”

“I still stand by that.”

Arthur turns his head away, but Merlin can tell he’s smiling. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet.

“Will you, though? Stay?”

Merlin looks up and meets Arthur’s gaze. He can’t, doesn’t really want to, say no to Arthur.

“Yeah, for as long as I can.”

***

The wall’s cold against his cheek, and Merlin desperately wants to reach back but manages to keep his hands against the wall like he’s been ordered to. A small shiver is running down his spine, but it’s not because of the coolness of the metal. Arthur’s breaths are harsh in his ear and his body is covering Merlin’s.

“You…” Arthur breathes. “You make me want things.”

A small groan slips past Merlin’s lips and he closes his eyes. Arthur’s hands are slowly running their way down Merlin’s arms, over his exposed ribs and up his naked back again. Then Arthur presses a kiss to the small patch of skin behind Merlin’s ear.

“I should make you regret your snark.”

Merlin opens his eyes again and can see the outline of Arthur’s face in the corner of his eye.

“I should tease you until you beg for me to fuck you, Merlin.”

The words are hard, but the small kiss on Merlin’s neck isn’t.

“I’ll open you up slowly… Let you feel every time my fingers enter you, but never give you what you want.”

Merlin revels in the weight of him against his back. For the first time in a long time, Merlin feels like he’s in the right place with the right person.

“I would beg you, Arthur,” Merlin says, voice dark, and Arthur lets out a small, startled exhale that tickles Merlin’s ear.

It doesn’t take long for him to recover, though.

“Oh, I know. You would let me do whatever I wanted.”

His hand sneaks its way under the waistband of Merlin’s trousers, slowly rubbing the skin of his hip.

“I’ll kiss every bit of your skin… Until you don’t know where you are.”

Merlin can feel Arthur’s hardening cock through the clothes. His breaths in his ear are even harsher than before and Merlin wants nothing else than force more sweet noises out of that dirty mouth.

“Please, let me suck you off. Arthur…”

Another small groan, another kiss, but Arthur still doesn’t allow Merlin to move.

“No,” he says, “I want to--”

***

Merlin’s back in the forest. He’s half-naked, sporting an inconvenient boner, and his trousers are unbuttoned. Next to him, there’s the wicker basket he must’ve dropped before…

Arthur, oh Gods.

There’s a small sound of someone nearing, and Merlin has just enough time before Hunith steps into the clearing.

“There you are, love. Did you find any mushrooms? But… What happened to your shirt?”

 

11

 

 **Pairings** : Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Elyan (only mentioned)  
**Warnings** : bondage

 

Why again had Arthur agreed to this?

Oh, right. Elyan and his damnable threats to withhold further sex was why.

 _This Merlin bloke better be worth it_ , Arthur thought as he spotted a figure standing in front of where Arthur would be staying for the next seven days.

What the hell was Arthur thinking? He should turn around this very second.

But he wouldn’t.

At least the Merlin standing a few metres away looked passable, Arthur mused. Yes, he was dressed oddly, and his hair was sticking out in all directions and looked as if a family of birds must nest there on a regular basis, but his face was sharp cheekbones, chiseled chin, and adorable dimples, and his body was wiry thin. It looked like he would break if you squeezed him too tightly.

“Hello,” said the figure now approaching him, his hand outstretched. “You must be Arthur. I’m Merlin.”

Well, that was good to know. Arthur hadn’t fancied impeding on someone else’s fantasy. His was sordid enough as it was; he did not relish being flogged as he bent over a washing machine or buggered as he hung from a rope as another sucked him off… although, now that Arthur thought about it, that last one didn’t sound at all bad.

His cock quite liked the idea.

Perhaps Merlin…

Oh yes, he might want to respond lest Merlin think him mute. He stuck out a hand. “Yes, I am Arthur. Shall we enter? Mr. Roarke said it best we do not delay, that time was ticking and we would want to take advantage of each second given to us.” Arthur hadn’t understood that comment then, and he still didn’t now.

Merlin chuckled, “Yes, the little one who helps him, Tattoo I think is his name, said the same to me.”

Half an hour later the two stood before the medieval well that had no doubt been placed there to set the mood for what was to come next. Merlin was some distance away, his eyes closed, his lips slowly moving. Arthur wondered what he was doing—he would ask later—but for the moment Arthur looked to his left and gasped when a castle materialized before his eyes.

It was magnificent.

Much more so than he had imagined. He had read about Camelot, but to see it… there were no words to adequately describe what he felt.

A cleared throat had Arthur turning to Merlin, and he did a double-take. Where Merlin had previously been dressed in what Arthur considered emo attire, he now donned an odd mismatch of clothing: a red belted tunic, brownish red trousers, brown boots, and a blue neckerchief to complete the ensemble. It was hideous, but Arthur didn’t have time to dwell on that because Merlin was looking at him oddly, pointing at his chest.

Arthur glanced down at himself. He was wearing ancient chainmail.

He took in a deep breath.

He was really doing this.

For Elyan.

Well, mostly for Elyan.

 

_“Book a trip to Fantasy Island, Arthur, and ask to meet Merlin. I don’t think this will end your dreams that have plagued you your entire life, but I can tell you that, as your lover, it is impossible to compete with a ghost. Go see him, fuck him, and get him out of your system. Then come back to me.”_

 

So that is what Arthur was here to do.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked, his voice tremulous, his face colourless.

Arthur opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn’t say a word as dots began connecting.

He turned his head again to look at the castle, and now there was activity—people walking, horses carrying their owners, knights riding out into the surrounding woods, and bells ringing.

It all came crashing back.

Mordred.

Merlin.

Avalon.

Merlin holding him.

Then nothing.

Arthur slowly returned his gaze to Merlin and all those years of emotion came over him. He fell to the ground as he reached out to Merlin.

He still couldn’t speak, but he need not say anything as Merlin cradled him to his chest and sobbed for his own pent-up loss.

How long they sat there, on the ground of Ancient Camelot, Arthur had no idea. All he knew was that he never wanted to let go.

He felt kisses peppering his face, and he thought he might burst when Merlin whispered that he loved him and that he would never let him go again.

Arthur sobbed harder.

They had seven days.

Seven days would not be nearly enough.

But it was all they had.

Arthur reluctantly pulled away and stood, helping Merlin to his feet. The two returned to the cabana and hadn’t even closed the door before Arthur pushed Merlin against the wall and crushed their lips together. There was so much he wanted to say, but they had six more days for that. On day one all Arthur wanted to do was memorize every inch of Merlin’s body.

The first time Arthur entered Merlin’s tight arse, it was slow and methodical, but after that, things heated up. It turned out Merlin had a fantasy kink, so Arthur tied him up and fucked him as he hung from ropes. Then Merlin and Arthur went outdoors, found a stream, and made love on the bank, their picnic untouched.

Then Arthur donned a crown and sat on his throne as Merlin rode him so hard that the gilded furniture couldn’t hold them. They ended up on the floor, and that is where they stayed until it was time to eat, but even then they didn’t stop their lovemaking. As Merlin pounded into Arthur they fed each other strawberries.

As the sun came up on day two, Arthur looked over at his sleeping lover and watched him breathe. He would allow Merlin to sleep a little longer, but not much. They only had six more days. Arthur didn’t want to waste a single second.

He had waited over a thousand years for this.

 

12

 **Warnings** None  
**Pairings** Arthur/Merlin

Every morning at 7:30 without fail, Arthur came into Camelot Coffee shop.

“Good morning, Arthur. The usual?” Merlin would ask. It was always the same order – triple shot Americano to go.

Arthur was usually on the phone, so just smiled and nodded. And then he would wait, and Merlin would make his coffee.

Every. Single. Day.

“You should ask Arthur out,” Gwen kept telling him. She saw Merlin’s disappointment as Arthur walked out of the shop and off to wherever he worked. “Seriously, he always smiles at you, I’m sure he likes you.”

Merlin sighed sadly. “I’m just the guy who makes his coffee.”

“Put your number on his cup,” Gwen suggested.

She handed Merlin one of the pens they used to mark the cups, then stood over him while he wrote a note on it asking Arthur to meet him at closing time.

“Great! Give him that tomorrow.”

Merlin put the cup up on a shelf, fully intending to bin it when Gwen wasn’t around.

Except somehow the cup was still there, right in front of Merlin as he started on Arthur’s order the following morning. Merlin stared at it as the coffee machine bubbled away. Did he dare?

He did.

“Enjoy your coffee.”

Arthur took the cup then looked at the message. He gave Merlin a delighted smile. “I’ll see you later,” he promised.

Merlin was caught between terror and elation for the rest of the day. So much so that it only seemed moments later that he was shutting up the shop and heard a tap on the glass door.

Arthur, still in his work suit, was holding up the coffee cup against the glass. Quickly Merlin let him in, glad Gwen had gone off early.

“I got your note,” Arthur told him, drawing him in for a kiss. “Been counting the hours till closing.”

“I didn’t know if you’d be interested,” Merlin attempted.

“You brighten my mornings,” Arthur whispered, then captured Merlin’s mouth again.

Arthur kissed like his coffee – strong and hot. Held in his arms, Merlin felt as if he were in a dream. It was too perfect.

“Should we… um… dinner?” Merlin squeaked eloquently.

“Takeaway at mine okay?” Arthur suggested.

That sounded better than okay.

Arthur’s flat was huge and modern, with a vast window in the bedroom that looked out over the city lights. There were no curtains to spoil the view.

“Nobody can see us up here,” Arthur assured him as he slipped his hands under Merlin’s shirt, cool fingers stroking the skin of Merlin’s stomach.

Merlin didn’t care if they could. Arthur was pulling off his clothes and flinging them aside. That expensive-looking suit was in a crumpled heap on the floor. Merlin’s shirt rapidly joined it. Arthur was bloody gorgeous, all toned and perfect, his cock half-erect. Merlin could feel himself hardening just at the sight before him. He hoped Arthur wasn’t too disappointed by his pale, awkward limbs.

Suddenly feeling nervous, Merlin started to fumble with the button on his jeans. Then strong, confident hands moved in to help, unbuttoning, unzipping and pushing the heavy denim down past Merlin’s hips. Freed, Merlin’s cock bobbed up eagerly. Merlin dared to look at Arthur, afraid that he might already regret this.

But Arthur was gazing at him with warmth and appreciation, his hands sliding over Merlin’s back, down his arms, gentle and sensual.

“You’re perfect,” he told Merlin. “Just perfect.”

That probably wasn’t true, but Merlin didn’t care. He kicked off his shoes and jeans. And then there was just Arthur and his glorious, tanned body lowering Merlin down onto the bed and climbing on top of him.

“Have you any idea how long I’ve been trying to think of a way to ask you out without seeming like a creeper?” Arthur gasped, straddling Merlin’s hips and grinding down on him. Merlin’s only answer was a moan of pleasure, quickly cut off as Arthur leaned in to kiss and lick into his mouth, his throat, his chest.

“God, fuck me already!” Merlin gasped as Arthur moved further down. He was exploring every inch of Merlin with that eager, succulent mouth, and seemed intent on taking his time.

“Patience,” Arthur whispered. He was low now, kissing a trail down Merlin’s stomach, the tip of Merlin’s cock brushing against his face. He took the very tip into his mouth, his tongue swirling briefly over it.

“Arthur…”

Arthur looked up at him and grinned for a moment. Then he went down on Merlin and all Merlin knew was that warm wet heaven of Arthur’s mouth, taking him in deep, sucking and working at him. One hand had worked its way beneath Merlin, fingering his opening, pressing on the sweet spot.

Merlin was going to die. He knew it.

“Arthur...” Merlin gasped again, this time in warning.

But Arthur kept going, swallowing him down, as Merlin bucked helplessly into his lover’s mouth as he came, flopping back onto the bed bonelessly, lost in pleasure.

Arthur lay half on top of him, moving in to kiss him. Merlin could taste himself on Arthur’s lips.

“Nectar,” Arthur breathed.

“That was… Oh… just give me a moment…” Merlin sighed. “I want to do everything to you, Arthur. Everything.”

Arthur laughed, burying his face in Merlin’s neck. “God, you smell good. I can’t wait to fuck you. And this isn’t a one off, right? I’ll see you again?” Arthur asked. “Merlin? Merlin?”

“Merlin?”

Someone was calling his name. But it wasn’t Arthur.

“Merlin, have you gone to sleep?” Gwen exclaimed, pushing past him to pour Arthur’s coffee. “Here you are, Sir. I’m sorry, Merlin hasn’t woken up properly yet. You have a great day, thanks for your custom.”

Arthur took the cup, giving Merlin a curious look, then headed for the door. But then he stopped and looked at the cup then back at Merlin. Merlin froze, not daring to look back at the shelf because he knew what Gwen had done.

“I’ll see you later,” Arthur smiled.

 

13

 

 **Warnings:** Body transformation  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur/Gwaine/Percival  
Not everyday you meet a Dragonlord. As Arthur, Gwaine and Percival find out, certain circumstances cause unexpected changes in Merlin. Apparently teasing and riling Merlin up sexually causes him to change into a creature only heard of in Fantasy. To say they were, ahem, "intrigued" would be an understatement.

 

14

 **Warnings:** None  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and show our dedicated porners some love!


End file.
